


Upon Waking

by sallyamongpoison



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Prompt Fill, Rimming, Somnophilia, Trespasser compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 06:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5081020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallyamongpoison/pseuds/sallyamongpoison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was given the prompt "Somnophilia."</p>
<p>Somnophilia: known as sleeping princess syndrome and sleeping beauty syndrome, is a paraphilia in which an individual becomes sexually aroused by someone who is unconscious.</p>
<p>In which Dorian wakes Cullen three times and once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upon Waking

The first time had been because Dorian was bored. He’d woken with the sun, hard and aching already, and buried his face in against Cullen’s shoulder while the other man slept on. The dreams he’d had, things that would make even a desire demon blush and turn away, were burning in his mind and he rolled his hips against the fine curve of the Commander’s body. The feel of hot skin against his own should have soothed him, but it only made him whine. Lying there, thinking of the things they could have been doing instead of sleeping in, and he couldn’t just go back to sleep. **  
**

His fingers, rings off and piled neatly in a dish beside the bed, trailed down Cullen’s side and under the blankets that helped to keep the warm air trapped around them. Dorian took care to be gently, hardly touch him, and buried his face in against freckled skin as he remapped the body he’d learned so well the night before. The teasing didn’t matter, not really, but Dorian couldn’t  _not_  touch. Even under the blankets Cullen’s body begged to have his fingers run along that pale skin.

Soon, his fingers moved lower. Down, over Cullen’s hips, and then between their bodies where Dorian was already slowly rubbing himself against the Commander’s ass. His own erection was almost painful, harder than he remembered coming to bed with the night before, and Dorian shifted just a bit so he could sink his fingers between the rather fantastic meat of Cullen’s rear end. He groaned softly, the tips of his fingers finding the evidence of their night together still leaking out and puddling on the thin sheet, and parted his lips to press an open kiss against Cullen’s shoulder.

Maker, this was wrong. He knew it was, but he couldn’t help himself. He  _needed_. Dorian’s fingers pushed inside, thrusting in slow and gentle pumps until he was up to the knuckle. One of his legs lifted, wrapped around both of Cullen’s so their hips fit together better, and he let himself roll in against that soft skin as he gently fucked his sleeping lover with his fingers. A soft sound made him pause for a moment, a gasp from Cullen’s lips as his body seemed to recognize was what going on, then the feeling of the Commander pushing back against his hand for more.

It didn’t take long for Cullen to be ready, since they’d only gone to bed a few hours ago, and Dorian didn’t want to risk waking him with just his fingers. If he was going to wake the good Commander with something, it was going to be his cock. That, and there was no way he was going to be able to lie there and watch Cullen fuck himself on Dorian’s fingers while still being mostly asleep. There were only perhaps three things in all the world more attractive than that, and first thing in the morning was too early for that much beauty. So he leaned up, half on his elbow, and guided himself inside.

_Maker_ , but Cullen’s body was a miracle among men. Dorian groaned more loudly then and leaned forward a bit to rest his forehead against the other man’s back while he got his bearings. That tight, wet heat wrapped around him had been his undoing so many times in the past but now? Now he had that little bit of something taboo with it. Would Cullen wake now? Was he still asleep at all? Dorian had no idea. What Dorian  _did_  know was that if he didn’t move in the next three seconds he’d end up insane. He could wax lyrical about the feeling of that squeeze around him and how they seemed to fit each other like they’d been molded together.

He’d tried to keep his thrusts short and gentle. That had been the plan. Dorian had wanted to move in Cullen lightly to keep him asleep, but that had gone out the window almost immediately. The hand not supporting him went to Cullen’s hip to pull him backward as he thrust in and he only groaned louder when he felt the other man startle. So he was awake. Good. Very good. Dorian’s voice needed some company.

“What- ah!” Cullen hissed as his hips were pulled backward and Dorian slammed expertly into his prostate. He stuttered, hands scrambling for purchase in the bedsheets, and buried his face in against the pillows. “ _Maker_ ,” he whimpered, voice still thick with sleep. That was about the sexiest thing Dorian had ever seen. Awake for mere seconds and already Cullen had the blush across his shoulders and in what of his cheeks Dorian could see that was a sign of being well fucked.

Thankfully it was still hours until breakfast.

–

The second time had been the evening after the Masque at the Winter Palace. They’d crowned a new Emperor and thwarted Corypheus at yet another turn. Gaspard was thrilled, offered to let them stay at his chateau that wasn’t far from the Palace, and gave the Inquisition nearly free reign to recover from such an ordeal. They deserved the rest. Everyone had been exhausted, after all.

Dorian had woken late in the evening and bathed before he slithered back into bed with the sleeping Commander. His pale skin lit up with the colors of the sunset through the windows, the long curve of his back exposed from where he’d pushed the blankets off of him and rolled onto his stomach, and Dorian bit his lip for the sight. The man should have been statues and whole frescoes devoted to him with his ass poking up from under the blankets and one arm thrown across the mattress. It was a feast to take in, and it wasn’t long before Doran reached down to slowly stroke his cock as it hardened from the sight.

After the last time, what felt like months ago now, Cullen had joked about sex being one of the best ways to wake. He always loved a bit of a morning do before they had to be anywhere, and it often left Dorian’s mind reeling at the thought that he was sending the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces off for the day with his seed dripping out of him. He’d been worried that waking him up with as much had been an overstep of boundaries, considering Cullen’s nightmares, but the way he blushed and murmured in Dorian’s ear that he liked it had almost been as rewarding as spilling inside of him before Cullen was awake enough to form words.

So perhaps something different. It wasn’t morning. They weren’t expected anywhere else. Dorian had all night to rouse his lover and put the fine accoutrements to good use. He moved, straddled Cullen’s hips, and started to kiss his way down along his back. Surely that would wake him before long. Dorian loved how he tasted, how his skin felt against his lips, and how they seemed to slot together like the perfect words of a spell that could bring down armies. When they were together, Dorian often felt they could. He let his lips and tongue, and sometimes teeth, come out to play as he moved lower. Under him, Cullen shifted, but his eyes stay closed where his face was buried in one of the plush pillow. Dorian wanted to soothe all the aches and worries Halamshiral had left them with, and he wanted to salvage what he could out of a trip where they were together instead of clinging to what time they got at Skyhold.

His mouth moved lower, tongue out, and Dorian tasted that part of Cullen’s back where it met his hips. Delicious. More. More skin. More to taste. More more more. His fingers gripped the meat of his cheeks and pulled them apart, leaving the mage room to run his tongue lower. Just like this. He groaned, cock jerking against where it was straining upward at his stomach, and Dorian bent over to let let the flat of his tongue tease his lover until his woke.

It didn’t take long.

Cullen squirmed, hips bucking against the mattress, and Dorian could feel him trying to roll over. Not happening. He was pinned with Dorian’s weight on him like that. “Dorian?” he asked, voice catching just a bit as his mind clearly registered the sensations it was getting. He let out a shaky kind of sound, one that pinched at the end as Dorian let the tip of his tongue prod teasingly, and arched his back. “Fuck,” he whined, hips undulating in time with Dorian’s tongue against the mattress, “oh,  _Maker’s breath_ , Dorian…”

So he liked that. Good to know.

–

The third time had been out of desperation. Dorian hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He’d meant to stay awake and watch the sun rise on Cullen so he could commit the way those gold curls caught the light while he curled in close. He’d meant to spend the long hours tracing the ropes of muscle and scars so that when he needed to recall how the man felt he would have no issue. He’d meant to stay up late and whisper all the ways he loved the man into Cullen’s ear so that when the nights were long and dark and cold Cullen would remember. He’d meant to do so much.

The Exalted Council had finished. The Inquisition was no more. Lavellan was missing an arm and apparently there was to be some sort of world-destroying plan in action from Solas. Of all people. Nothing was the same. Nothing had been the same in years. He and Cullen had met here and there, halfway and then some, during his time back and forth in Tevinter. Now…now he had to go. Actually go. Go do things that weren’t trying to make amends or visit those who’d been involved. He was hardly Dorian anymore, after all. Magister Pavus. Or, he  _would_ be Magister Pavus soon.

His heart ached. His heart ached for the time they’d wasted. Sleep wasn’t as important as memorizing every line and freckle and stray hair. Dorian felt far too rushed, like he couldn’t breathe, and he clung to Cullen as the sky started to turn pink. He was to leave that day. Just…go. Like it was so easy to go. It wasn’t what he wanted, not like this, but it was how it was happening. The lazy days of sex until the early afternoon were long gone now. Maker only knew how long it would be before Dorian felt the strong, broad form he’d become so reliant on to feel safe against his chest again.

“Cullen?” he asked the darkness, unsure of whether or not he wanted the man to answer, and Dorian buried his face in against that warm skin, “are you awake?”

An incoherent grumble. That could have been affirmative or not, but Dorian didn’t care. He pressed himself close and rolled his hips against the other man like he’d done the first time. This wasn’t boredom or restlessness, though. This was…Maker, this could be the last time they were together. Dorian couldn’t just lie there and let himself be upset. No. No, he needed to lose himself in Cullen’s body and heart and spirit.

He didn’t even bother with his fingers this time. Dorian knew Cullen would be loose enough, and he couldn’t waste any more time. The air grew lighter by the second, and once the sun rose they’d have to face the fact that Dorian was leaving. This…perhaps if they had this they could delay it a little longer. One hand gripped at Cullen’s hip as Dorian threw his leg over the top of the other man’s, and he pushed himself in and to the hilt in a slow but rather easy motion. “ _Cullen_ ,” Dorian ventured again, his voice shaking now as he pulled his hips away just far enough to slide out partway so he could push himself back in, “a-are you awake?”

“Hm?” was the response, but already Cullen’s body seemed to know what was going on. Their hips were already moving together, pushing Dorian in deeper, and Cullen rolled a bit so he could turn and press their lips together. Dorian’s mouth swallowed the soft noises that he made, and Cullen lifted the hand that was under his head to tangle their fingers together under the pillow they shared.

The sound of skin on skin filled the room. It was punctuated by soft gasps and the occasional smack of the wooden headboard against the wall. Cullen’s grip on Dorian’s hand tightened, and he reached his free hand around to grab at Dorian’s flank to snap his hips harder into him. “Don’t stop,” he whimpered, voice only a shade louder than a whisper, “d-don’t stop.”

The hand at Cullen’s hip moved lower to wind around his cock. It was hot and heavy and already wet and leaking onto the sheets of their rented bed for the night. The former Commander cried out, hips stuttering a little as Dorian began to stroke him, and he arched his back that bit more so he could feel how Dorian filled him completely. He wanted to remember this. Maker, he didn’t care if it was hard to sit for the next three days, but he would  _remember_  the feeling of Dorian inside him.

“Cullen,” Dorian panted, then let out a breathy and frantic kind of sound as his hips picked up the pace, “c-close. Very close.”

The Fereldan was flushed from forehead to stomach and already covered in a thin sheen of sweat for their efforts. He writhed and squirmed at Dorian’s early morning assault on his senses like a man possessed, and he captured the mage’s mouth with his own. They needed to kiss. They needed to kiss and never forget what it felt like to taste each other.

Dorian swallowed Cullen’s moan when he came. Heat spurted between Dorian’s fingers and landed across Cullen’s stomach with such a force that it made the man clench hard around how Dorian’s cock had taken to teasing his prostate. There was nothing better than that feeling. For barely a moment Dorian felt as though he’d never be able to move from inside this other man and he couldn’t have been happier. It was such a perfect mix of heat and tightness that Dorian gripped probably just a bit too hard at Cullen’s softening erection and bit at his lower lip.

He came with a shudder and the stutter of his hips. It felt like Cullen’s body aimed to milk him completely dry, and Dorian keened against Cullen’s neck as it threatened to make him come again. “Don’t move,” he whimpered through gritted teeth, “if you move there’s no way we’re leaving this bed until tomorrow.” Was that really a threat? Would waiting one more day hurt anything? Or would Cullen’s sensible nature win out and remind him that it didn’t matter if they parted now or in another day for it to be difficult.

They breathed together for a long moment, back against chest, and Dorian squeezed his eyes shut. It felt like his body was still teetering on the edge. That was Cullen, though. Cullen did things to him, both physically and otherwise, that left him reeling. It was why Dorian wanted to spend so much time to memorize how it all felt. Without that good influence he could only wonder life was going to be like. He wanted this moment, and so many others, to be at his fingertips to be recalled whenever he needed.

–

The fourth time had been night after Cullen had surprised him in Tevinter, and Dorian meant to show the man what it truly felt like to be reunited.


End file.
